The weekly messenger. [volume] (St. Martinsville [i.e. St. Martinville] La.) 1886-1948, 1887-05-28
THE CREOLES OF
LOUISIANA;
Or, "reminiscences of an Old
Acadian.
BY FELIX VOORHEES,.
CHAPTER |.

1t seems but yesterday-and, yet, sixty
years have passed away since the days of
my bOyhoOi. How fieeting is time! How
rapidly does old age creep upon us with
its infirmitie5! The curling smoke
dispelled by the passing wind; the waters
that run by, murmuring softly in the
gentle stream, leave as deep mark OF
their passage as do the fleeting days of
man.
Twas then twelve years old, and l can
yet picture in my mind the noble SIM
plicity of my fathers house, so neatly
built. SO capacious and airy. The style
Of architecture in those days was not as
gaudy and as snowy az that in our pro-
gressiye age, but it was in accord with
the plainness Of measure OF our Acadian
fathers. Their dwellings had smiling
and inviting appearance no longer to be
found nowadays in our houses so quaint
and extravagant in their build. They
were as large and as grand as their hos
pitality was boundless; for no people
were more generous and hOspitable than
the Acadian exiles who peOpled the mag
nifcent and pOetical wilds of the Teche
country.
My fathers house stood on a slOping
hill in the centre Of large yard, with
finely laid out rows OF china trees inter
spersed with clusters Of towering oaks
forming delightful vistas. On the decli-
witty Of the hill the orchard displayed its
wealth Of orange, plum and peach trees.
Next to it was the kitchen garden teem-
ing with vegetables Of all kinds, suffi-
cient for the needs Of a whole village.
In the front of the house, outside of the
yard, tall pecan trees reared their heads
in lofty majesty, forming a charming
shady grove.
1t seems to ME that / see again that
yard with 1t hundreds Of poultry. so full
Of life, so noisy, running with tapping
wings to eat greedily the grain that my
mother scattered for them on the ground
in the morning and evening.
At the foot Of the hill, extending to
Bayou VermiliOn, were the pasture
grounds where the cattle grazed and
where the browsing sheep followed, step
by step, the stately ram with tinkling
bell suspended from his neck. How
clearly is the scenery, in all its details
and features, pictured in the mind.
We're | painter could lay on canvass
with the utmost truth and vividness all
the beauties Of that landscape with its
minutest shadOwings.
Is it not strange that should thus re-
call those things as if had seen them
but yesterday, while other facts that have
come to my knowledge subsequently and
other scenes that l have witnessed and
admired in my maturer years have been
Obliterated from my memory.
Does this not demonstrate that the in
telligence Of child is like soft wax, cas-
lily moulded to sensations and impress
sions that never fade; and that later that
softness hardens by the influences and
receptions Of life, will retain no longer
these impressions.
IL this be true. what a gentle sugges-
ton to us! How clearly does Providence
teach us by this means, that il we wish
our child to become what God destines
him to be. that is, an upwright man,
good citizen and a reprOachless father,
his intelligence must have the fostering
care of parental sOlicitnda.